


Scrambled Eggs for Breakfast

by RenkonNairu



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Breakfast, Day 4, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Raising a child together, Tim/Kon Week, Tim/Kon Week 2020, making breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: Conner hears their daughter trying to use the stove one morning and flies out of bed to make sure she doesn't hurt herself.
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent & Original Child Character, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Original Child Character, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41
Collections: TimKon Week





	Scrambled Eggs for Breakfast

Enhanced kryptonian hearing could be annoying when one was trying to sleep. You could hear everything. 

But it was an absolute godsend when one was raising a small child. Because you could hear _everything_! 

When Conner heard the door to their daughter’s room open and her feet padding down the hall, he knew she was just using the toilet. When he heard her walking back, pass by her bedroom, and continue to the kitchen, he assumed she was getting a cup of water. When he heard the fridge open, he assumed she was just sneaking a little snack. Tim would be disappointed if he knew, but Tim was still asleep. 

Then Conner heard the clicking of the stove lighting and he catapulted out of bed. Actually flying out of the room with a whirl of wind that woke Tim. 

In the kitchen, Conner found their daughter had moved the stool they kept in the bathroom so she could reach the sink to wash her hands. It was now pushed up against the oven so that she could reach the stove. She’d placed a frying pan over the fire –which was at the highest setting- and was in the process of cracking eggs onto it. 

She turned around when she felt the change in the air and the looming presence of her Pa behind her. The little girl stepped down from the stool, shifting from one foot to the other, the posture of someone who thought they were in a lot of trouble. 

“I just wanted to make breakfast.” She whispered. “For you and Dad.”

Conner immediately hated himself for scaring her. It took both him and Tim so long to get her to trust them after the adoption. 

Tim came in behind Conner, pulling a robe over his shoulders and yawning loudly. “What’s going on?”

Conner knelt down to be on a level closer to her. “Hey, hey, I’m not mad. I was just worried. The stove is dangerous.” He told her. Over his shoulder, he explained to Tim. “Fatima wanted to make us breakfast.”

Tim had already drawn that conclusion. Even still half-asleep he was one of the world’s greatest detectives. He also knew how important it was to make sure their child understood that she was not in trouble, she had just scared them. “That’s so sweet.” He said, making sure to put just the right amount of emphasis into the words without making them sound fake. His eyes fell on the stool they kept in the bathroom for her to reach the sink. “And so clever to solve the problem of how to reach the stove! But… I would feel better if you got an adult to help you with the parts that involve fire.” A pause. “Or knives.”

There did not appear to be a knife present in this breakfast attempt, but Tim also believed in covering for contingencies. 

Fatima shuffled her feet some more, looking down. “Okay.”

Conner offered her a reassuring smile. “Hey, how ‘bout I teach you how to make scrambled eggs. Just like Ma used to make for me!”

This time her “Okay” was less guilty and more enthusiastic. 

Conner pulled out one of the plastic mixing bowls, butter for the pan, milk to add into the eggs, and a whisk. 

Tim cleared the first attempt off the stove and washed the pan. He also made a point of turning off the fire since that was not the first thing Conner did (his parenting skills were still a work in progress). 

Fatima cracked fresh eggs into the bowl while Conner measured out the milk. He started to mix it all together. 

“The more you whisk it, the fluffier the eggs will me.” He explained. Then passed the bowl to his daughter. “Now you try.”

She beat the eggs furiously, spinning her arm as fast as she could, trying to duplicate Pa’s kryptonian super-speed. …and only succeeding in splashing raw egg all over the kitchen floor. 

Tim bent down with a rag to wipe it up. “I see you take more after your Pa.”

Both Fatima and Conner grinned back at him. 

With a sigh, Tim placed the freshly washed pan back on the stove and began wiping the eggshells and slime off the counters. 

Conner moved Fatima’s stool back away from the stove, then placed her on it so that she could still see what he was doing without actually being anywhere near the fire. 

“You do wanna pre-heat the pan.” He narrated each step as he did it. “But you don’t need the fire to be as big as it was.” 

When the stove first lights, it’s at the highest setting and Fatima left it there while she was trying to fry her eggs. Conner lowered it to a medium setting. Then he cut a slice off the stick of butter. 

“Then you have to oil the pan so the eggs don’t stick.” Conner continued. “Your Dad likes to use cooking spray, but they taste better if you use real butter.” The butter sizzled slightly when he dropped it in the pan. “You wanna move it around so the whole thing is buttered evenly.” He picked up the bowl of whisked eggs. “Then you can throw in your eggs.”

Fatima watched every step with wrapped attention. 

The eggs sizzled much louder than the butter did. 

“And you wanna be careful cooking eggs.” He added. “They’re like meat, you wanna make sure they’re cooked all the way through.”

He stirred the eggs in the pan, not quite flipping them like a pancake. More like folding the eggs in on themselves. They were already mostly cooked on the bottoms. Yellow and fluffy. He added a bit of cheese from the fridge, with salt and pepper. Mixed-folded it again to make sure the additions spread evenly. Then divided it into three portions. 

Tim pulled out three plates and set the table.

They all sat down. 

Tim made a big show of making yummy noises after his first bite of the eggs. “Ya know, Fatima, I think this is the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever had. You did a good job. Thank you for making breakfast.”

“I didn’t cook this, Pa did!” She giggled as if this was the silliest thing Dad had ever said.

She liked living with her parents. They were the best parents a kid could ask for. 

…

END


End file.
